Appaloosa Blues (Sisters of Spirit #8) (21 page)

Jo nodded, sobbing. There was something healing about being pressed up against Adam, wrapped securely with him inside his jacket — as she had been that night long ago when he'd found her injured on the mountainside.

Now, listening to the steady beat of his heart and his words of comfort, Jo gradually regained control. Where Adam was, was safety. He helped her over to his truck, lifted her inside and gave her her purse.

As they drove the few miles to Jo's home she dug out a handkerchief and dried her eyes. It seemed he was always rescuing her. He must think her a helpless fool, blubbering like a baby.

"Adam?"

"Uh huh?"

"How'd you find me? You always seem to be around when I'm in trouble. Why were you out this time?"

"Well... I hate to admit it, but I was watching for you to come home. I saw the lights and checked the car. With the top down, I could see two people inside, but couldn't tell who they were. But when you veered from side to side, and then skewed to a stop...."

"You came—" she whispered.

"Flying." He took a deep breath. "I could have killed that—" His hands clenched white on the wheel.

"Just as well you didn't. He isn't worth the trouble that would've caused."

They pulled into her driveway and Adam turned off the motor. "Come here, love," he said, holding his arms wide. Instantly she moved, tight against him, head on his chest. "Now tell me what happened."

She did, briefly. "You must think me a weak, helpless female," she concluded.

"Weak — no, and helpless — no. But a female, yes, definitely. Which simply means you aren't able to fight off a drunken lout who wants his own way. I should've beaten him harder."

"You did a pretty good job of it, anyway." She pressed herself closer, her mind in suspension. "It's going be years before I feel safe going out with anyone."

"Don't worry, you can go with me. Unless you don't feel safe. I hope you know by now I'd never hurt you."

She wiggled more securely into his arms and would have crawled inside him if she could. She felt so safe. How had she ever dreaded becoming `engaged' to him? "You are definitely not included."

"Then we'll prolong the engagement. And we'll ease the pace of our courtship somewhat. If you wish.

Was that what she wanted?
"Thanks," she murmured, but his suggestion didn't offer the comfort she needed. She didn't want things to be faked. "Uh, Adam?"

"Yes?"

"Let's not ease the pace, not now," she pleaded.

"You don't think it will bother you?"

"Not that way."

"If you're sure."

"Why should it?"

"Why indeed? My touch won't trigger off unpleasant memories?"

"No. I have only happy memories of being with you, so why—"

"Just so you trust me, Jo."

"I always have. Well, somewhat."

"I'm after total trust, dearest. Nothing but the best for me."

Jo smiled to herself. What was that supposed to mean? Sometimes he talked in riddles. She took a deep breath, still shaky.

"Relax, sweetheart. Do you want to talk or just rest?"

"Talk, for awhile at least. Whenever we stop, I keep having pictures flash through my mind."

"Let's talk then. Maybe we can get rid of some of them before they become nightmares."

"You don't mind?"

"Never. Talk to me, Joanna. I don't care what you say. And dearest — you need to know — it wouldn't have made any difference if I'd been too late to stop him. I would still respect you." His voice was low, resonant...and truthful.

"Thank you." Jo talked then, randomly, giving him her fears, letting him take them from her as he had taken the burden of Karen's problem. Eventually she ran out of words and the silence stretched as she lay relaxed in his arms. Adam made no move to release her, evidently understanding her need to be held.

"Jo, dearest, wake up."

She opened her eyes. It was daylight, the Sunday morning sky streaked with red. Had she fallen asleep? She sat up as Adam dropped his arms.

"I hate to disturb you, but it might come as too great a shock for Gramps to find you asleep in my arms. It's five a.m."

She turned to him with a smile, one hand resting on his arm. "I agree. That wouldn't do at all. Thanks, Adam, for...well, for everything."

He sat looking at her, quizzically, and didn't answer. Raising her hand to his face she gently touched the bruise that was beginning to show, then touched his lips. He was giving her no encouragement, evidently waiting for her to take the initiative.

Was he still afraid he might remind her of Peter?

That would never be. Adam had never forced her to do anything. She couldn't conceive of him becoming violent towards her.

Smiling, she touched her lips to his, initiating the kiss. He took charge, deepening it as his arms arched her to him. Her head spun rapidly as her body melted in response.

Adam released her abruptly and opened the door. "Better get you inside," he declared. "This place is too risky."

Her knees were all wobbly and she grabbed his arm as she stepped onto the ground, heart pounding loudly in her ears. In a daze, she watched while he opened her front door and eased her through. "Good morning, love," he whispered. "See you in a few hours."

"`Night, Adam..."  

He laughed softly and squeezed her shoulder. "Remember, dinner with me today."

Jo walked slowly up the stairs, slightly shell-shocked. What on earth had happened? All he had done was kiss her. No moonlight, no lake water, no romantic setting at all.

It appeared the emotions Adam had stirred up were his to call back, anytime he chose. Instantly. She was still trying to figure out how that could be as she climbed into bed, where she tossed and turned for an hour.

Unable to sleep, Jo finally dressed and made biscuits for breakfast. She set out milk and cereal, butter, honey and red-rich apple butter. Next she diced fresh chilled cantaloupe in a bowl beside each plate and left a pot of coffee to perk.

Calling out that breakfast was ready, Jo ran upstairs. Gramps was in the hallway, and she ducked quickly past him and into her room. She didn't particularly want to tell him what his "choice" had done. Later, perhaps, when she had time to think how to let him know without upsetting him. A weak heart was tricky to work around.

Carefully she put cover-up over the bruise — at least she didn't have a black eye — then darkened under the other for balance. When finished it looked more like a shadow...as if she had dark circles under her eyes. It was good enough to keep people from questioning her about it — like hesitating to ask a fat lady if she was pregnant.

Gramps refused to go to church with them, claiming he didn't feel up to the long drive. They picked up Mike and Cindy and their two little boys outside their home. Jo held Cindy's youngest on her lap while the other recited his memory verse for her.

Peter's car was gone, but as they passed the spot, Jo shuddered. She had been taught to value herself highly, and his assault had unnerved her. A woman became extremely vulnerable when she accepted a date with a man, more so than Jo had realized. So much depended upon the man's character. No wonder fathers were overly careful about who their daughters went out with.

They parked outside the old wooden building and walked in, Cindy taking her youngest to the class Karen was teaching while her older boy ran off to his class. Mike, Jo and her dad went into the auditorium. Aunt Marjorie greeted her at the door with an enthusiastic hug, while Uncle Stan shook her hand heartily. Church meant a time of togetherness in Jo's family and she missed her mother's presence. And Gramps'.

Mike found a long empty row near the middle and moved in to sit down. Her dad stepped back to allow Jo to enter next, but a hand on her arm stopped her. Adam.

"Good morning, Mr. Davies, Mike," he said, nodding his head in welcome. "If you'll excuse us, I believe Jo's sitting with me this morning." He tucked her hand beneath his arm as he spoke.

Jo liked the feel of her hand placed thus. It was a centuries old gesture of care, and announced — publicly — that she was his. A distinct murmur passed through the congregation and heads turned as friends around them took notice.

Jo didn't know how to react. This was much more of a declaration of intention than her idea of pausing to speak to him. Go to a restaurant in this town and the only ones to see you would be the teen crowd, passing salesmen, or tourists. But here were old friends and neighbors — most of those who counted in the community — of all ages.

Everyone would know, and know quickly — Mrs. Johansen and Alice Nertz were better than any news service — that Adam Trahern had taken Joanna Davies to sit with him, and that she had gone along more than willingly. How would Gramps take it?

Adam glanced down at her with a slightly skewed grin of mischievous inquiry, and her heart somehow did a complete somersault. A flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks, knowing everyone was staring.

With a smile at her father who looked completely off guard, Jo allowed Adam to escort her to the front seats. She was thankful she had worn her royal blue shirt-waister. With its full skirt and buttoned neckline it was simply cut, yet very feminine, accented by a gold locket with inlaid lapis her father had given her on her sixteenth birthday. Its long sleeves hid the bruises on her arms and its color made her hair, worn loose today, seem even redder.

Seated next to Adam's mother with his grandparents one over, she exchanged swift "Hellos." Evidently they had been briefed, for they nodded pleasantly, and his mother, Carole, squeezed her hand saying, "It's so good to have you with us."

Adam sat with his arm across the back of the bench, his hand resting on Jo's shoulder, totally ruining her concentration when he moved his fingers. Wondering if he realized what a distraction he was, she looked up, and met dancing black eyes over a suppressed grin. The rascal. He knew. She beamed back, face radiant, as happiness swept through her.

He slid even closer so that she was completely tucked under his arm. Masculine after-shave pervaded her senses as his other hand covered hers. "Relax, sweetheart," his voice stirred her hair as he whispered in her ear.

Jo took a deep breath, but couldn't help worrying. How many questions would they have to answer after services? She was glad he hadn't told her his intentions on Saturday. She would have fretted about it all day.

"You realize, Adam, there's no backing out now. This is more of a public announcement than if you'd put it in the newspaper," she said in a lowered voice.

That brought a quiet chuckle from him. "After all the years of sitting at the opposite ends of this building, for you to enter the enemy camp — on my arm — should do it. I knew of no better way to get the word out. The quicker the better if we're supposed to be engaged before the end of the summer."

"A stroke of genius, my dear Mr. Trahern."

"I quite agree, Miss Davies."

"Are you prepared to handle all the questions and ribbing we're going to get? Cause I'm not."

"No problem. Leave it to me."

"I will. Just stay close."

"That, too, is no problem."

With class over, Johnny appeared and Adam moved his long legs to let his brother by. "All okay?" Johnny asked excitedly. "Did your folks object, Jo?"

"No, but Dad's the only one here. Mom's in Pendleton with Tom and Jenny...and Gramps didn't come." Gramps was usually always there, his deep scowl never more pronounced than when glaring at the Traherns. No one felt comfortable under his watchful, suspicious eye. How upset would he be, by this latest move of Adam's? Jo was afraid to think about it.

Johnny gave her the thumbs-up sign just as the service began. Adam was song leader that morning, his rich baritone and confident lead enabled the congregation to sing out as one. Also, it surely helped their singing to have such a happy looking man leading them.

Afterwards everyone gathered around to visit, curious.

“How long has this been going on?"

"Does this mean the breech has finally been healed?"

"What does Gramps think of this?"

Adam answered for them. "You'll have to wait and see about Gramps. It's early days yet." Jo copied his answers, since similar questions came from all.

She could see her father answering questions, smiling broadly and nodding his head. The different people he talked to left with a smile on their faces. Adam's mother, Carole, stopped to speak to him, and Jo saw her dad give her a hug. He was helping out his daughter as well as he could. Now if only Gramps could be reached.

Adam stood with his arm protectively around her, fending off most of the questions, for which she was thankful. When their curious friends had finally departed, Adam spoke a few more minutes with Jo's father, explaining Jo was going to his place for dinner.

Bemused, she allowed herself to be helped into Adam's pick-up while Johnny drove the rest of his family in their van. The use of two vehicles did not go unnoticed by some of the younger teens, who gathered around to call teasing comments as they drove away. Adam lifted his hand to them, then reached over to slide Jo closer.

"You blush so beautifully, dear," Adam kidded as he changed gears. "People will think you have something to hide."

"Do you think we'll have to go through this all summer?"

"I imagine not. They'll ease up after awhile." He put his arm around her again. It was beginning to feel like it belonged there, and Jo sighed in pleasure.

"I liked your singing, Adam. Everyone was so enthusiastic. We almost rattled the windows."

"I've led before and they didn't sound that good, so part of it was they were happy for us."

"They were, weren't they. As if a burden was lifted."

"It's been a burden. Everyone's tiptoed around for years being careful of what they said to our two families. Robert covered it well in his sermon. A lack of forgiveness destroys both the guilty person and the victim."

"It's destroying Gramps. I hope this works, and he takes it well."

"Talk to him again when you get home. Even if he complains or tells you to stay away from me, I think he'll give in once he sees our course is set."